At Every Opportunity
by Embolalia
Summary: Where would Tony and Ziva be if they'd taken ALL of the chances we know they've had? From Shalom through Rule 51.
1. Silver War

**At Every Opportunity**

So, in general TIVA stories pick one might-have-been moment from the show and run with it. I began to wonder recently where our characters might be if they'd taken advantage of _all_ those moments. I am going to do my best to keep this from breaking canon, and while I can (and have in other stories) make TIVA scenes from a single glance, I'm going to restrain myself to episodes that have overt romantic overtones. In light of _Making Mistakes_ having more or less stalled out, I'm sticking to a plan for this one: twelve chapters, roughly twelve days. Then complete, at least until the fall. This one is short to get us started, and we have a T rating that will last us just one chapter.

* * *

Chapter 1: Silver War

The first time they have sex, it is only with their eyes and only for a moment.

"Right now you're thinking of doing page 57 with me," Ziva accuses lightly, and for just a split second after Tony's nervous laugh, she's right. Absolutely right. All he can think about is how lithe and soft her body might be under the army garb, how it would feel to- She's probably only teasing him, getting him back for calling her out on her last visit for slouching provocatively, but the look in her eyes suggests Ziva is imagining it too.

She turns away and Tony's gaze goes past her to Kate's desk, which abruptly diverts the flow of his thoughts. Too much else is going on for them to dwell on the moment, and both of them are grieving. He can't stop staring at Kate's desk, and Ziva would never admit it but the magazine subscription was Ari's. There are too many layers of guilt and loneliness and betrayal and deep, numbing pain for either of them to sort out.

A year later, digging the magazine out a drawer as he prepares to move his things to Gibbs' desk, Tony will hold it up with a smile and they'll remember that moment.

"That was the first time I pictured you naked," Tony will whisper across the bullpen after checking for McGee.

Ziva will cross the room to him, lean into his space to flip through to the relevant page. "Me, too," she'll murmur back. "That was the spark."

He'll twist to get a glimpse of her face. "What would have happened if we'd acted on it, right then and there?"

She'll shake her head. "I would have left. Gibbs would not have let me stay...and I would not have wanted to. I did not want to be close to anyone."

"And now?"

And then she'll put the memory away, that tiny flash of humor and desire in the midst of months of pain. And she'll give him that same look, of imagination and promise. A look that will, by then, mean a whole lot more.


	2. Undercovers

**At Every Opportunity**

So, it seems that ghosts are reviewing because this story has 0 hits! Oh, this site... But to those of you who reviewed, thanks! I hope I live up to your expectations! Also, another episode/chapter occurred to me yesterday and there may be others I'm forgetting, so if you think of any lesser known TIVA episodes (I mean, Jet Lag and Judgment Day are givens) let me know.

This chapter is inspired in part by the interviews Cote de Pablo did during season 3 where she said she thought Tony and Ziva had sex during their undercover op. Oh, and we've officially reached an M rating. You've been warned!

* * *

Chapter 2: Undercovers

Tony rolls angrily away from her, lifting his pillow and pulling it down over his head. And then a shiver runs through him, what can only be lust, for his cheek is suddenly pressed into the pooled silk of Ziva's green dress that they couldn't find earlier.

His disrupted sleep forgotten, Tony inhales the scent of her perfume, not stopping to wonder how her garment ended up here. This afternoon, when they got the assignment, Ziva turned up in the lab where Tony was picking up their IDs wearing this, and he realized more clearly than ever before that his partner was a woman.

Sure he'd known it—she could ooze sexuality on a whim—but she certainly never showed it off. Not like this, the make-up, the silk, the perfume, and god, the kissing... Tony groans and snatches the dress away from his face, tossing it over the side of the bed. This is definitely the worst possible time to start fantasizing about his partner. She's his formidable opponent at any other time, and what happened earlier was closer to jousting than sex. Plus she's sleeping with a gun.

Ziva shifts beside him and he hears the dull thud of her weapon falling to the floor. Tony grimaces. At least he has one less thing to worry about. He pulls the pillow off his head, turns to face her, and suddenly forgets about the snoring.

She's facing him now and it's never occurred to Tony before, but her sexiness is all in her expressions and her posture and her words. In the relaxation of sleep, her face has the simple beauty of a young girl. As many girls as Tony DiNozzo has known, he never realized Ziva might be one of them. It strikes him for the first time that she's younger than he is, maybe a lot younger.

It takes a moment for him to realize the snoring has stopped.

Ziva's eyes flutter open, then meet his. "Tony?" she breathes.

He hesitates, unsure what to say. Then he remembers that, for tonight at least, they get to pretend the fantasy is real. So he slides in, kisses her lips. The hunger he kissed her with earlier has abated, but he doesn't miss the way she leans into him, rests a hand against his chest. He wonders if she can feel his heart racing, wonders if hers might be, too. Tony's hand slides down the fabric of her nightgown, rests on her hip.

Ziva stiffens, leans back out of the kiss.

The way she's turned makes shadows fall across her face and Tony panics suddenly, realizing that he's kissed his partner. "Sorry," he whispers, as softly as he can. "Just trying to sell the mission." He hopes he doesn't sound too desperate.

She turns back into the moonlight that's filtering in through the curtains and Tony makes out a small smile on her lips. "In Mossad, we would simply have sex."

He raises an eyebrow in the dark. "This isn't Mossad." That doesn't stop his blood from suddenly pounding harder through his veins.

"For the mission," she offers. "To keep us from being distracted. Don't you want to?"

For the life of him, Tony isn't sure if she's teasing or not. "Do you?"

She eases closer to him, and Tony knows there's no way she doesn't know how aroused he is. "I think we'd enjoy each other," she murmurs into his ear.

He claims her mouth without another thought, his hand on her hip rolling her under him.

Ziva slips a leg around his waist, responding to his kiss with equal passion.

Tony can't help tensing, wondering if she's still playing him, but he slides a hand up her thigh, teasing her for long minutes while her hands explore him in turn before finally stroking between her legs. Instead of injuring him Ziva cries out in unabashed pleasure. He clamps his free hand over her mouth.

Ziva freezes, eyes wide as she stares up at him.

He leans into the curve of her neck, whispers into her skin, "You were quiet before. Don't do that or they'll realize it was fake..." he briefly explores her throat with his lips, then returns to kissing her as she rolls them over, straddles him with her gown around her waist. He stills her as she rises up. "Condom," Tony breathes.

She shakes her head. "Don't worry," she purrs against his chest as she drops a kiss over his heart. And then as she sits up, Ziva slides him into her.

Tony has to bite back his own cry, because after so many hours of frustration, this feels like the most intense sensation of his life.

Ziva begins to shush him, then has to focus on staying silent herself as he grabs her hips and thrusts upward again and again, savoring her response and losing himself to his own. It doesn't take them long to find release, working together to take pleasure in each other's bodies.

Tony is still catching his breath as he studies Ziva a while later, slumped on his chest, sated and gasping.

She opens her eyes and looks into his for the second time that night. "Tony?" she whispers again, this time with a smile.

He can't tell her what he's thinking now either—that every once in a while her kick-ass, volunteered-for-Mossad persona slips, and he sees what she's like beneath it: girlish and graceful and amazing enough to terrify Tony DiNozzo under ordinary circumstances. "We'll have to be louder tomorrow," he answers softly, grinning. "We got carried away a little at the end, there."

Ziva smiles again, but her eyes narrow in a way that tells Tony she knows his words are a half truth. "This is only for tonight," she murmurs.

He nods in the darkness, running his fingers through her hair until she rests her head on his chest again. "I know," he says quietly, and closes his own eyes, finally falling asleep.


	3. Hiatus II

**At Every Opportunity**

Glad you're all still reading! A bunch of you had good suggestions about episodes. I'll probably use or reference the key dialogue for most of them - if you have more ideas, let me know! This chapter starts immediately after Gibbs leaves at the end of Hiatus part II. Given that like most of you I don't really think they've had sex on the show, this was the time I was always most willing to believe it happened. Hope you like...

* * *

Chapter 3: Hiatus 2

They watch the elevator doors close in silence. A long moment passes, then Abby takes off into sudden, frantic motion, rushing toward the stairwell.

"Abbs!" Tony grabs her around the waist and Abby crumples to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

"He left us," she splutters.

"He-" Tony begins, and stops, his jaw betraying a faint tremble.

Ziva's eyes snap to McGee's, slipping into silent communication. He moves at once, pulls Abby gently away from Tony's arms. Ziva steps into the space that's left, reaching up to touch Tony's cheek and bring him back to the moment.

"It's been a long day," she says firmly. "Who knows what he'll feel tomorrow?"

Tony meets her eyes and Ziva aches with the pain she finds there. She tugs his hand and relaxes when he follows her as she leads him down and out of the building. Ducky's tail lights are still visible leaving the Navy Yard as they reach the parking lot, but she does her best not to let Tony see.

That night they only drink, and Tony talks, and Ziva pretends not to notice when he fights back tears. It is only when Tony protests that only a blow to the head would make Gibbs leave him the team that Ziva takes the bottle away.

"Stay," Tony pleads when she tucks him into bed, his hand suddenly snatching at her wrist.

She pauses long enough for him to lace his fingers through hers. Even from here Ziva can smell the alcohol on his breath, but she's hardly fit to drive either.

"On the couch," she says softly.

His eyes flash with injury and Tony drops her hand.

"At least tonight," she adds, to salve his wounds, and Tony's eyes dart up to hers, suddenly filled with heat she well remembers. Ziva smiles down at him, a promise for later, and leaves him to sleep.

xxx

In the morning, their heads aching, neither can begin to mention the promise inherent in Ziva's words the night before. It is nearly a week before she turns up at his apartment again.

"I brought food," she offers, trying for a cheerful smile. They both know it's forced; Jenny told them quietly this afternoon that Gibbs had his retirement papers sent to her office, and his forwarding address is in Mexico.

"I'm sure there's something on TV," Tony says simply, and Ziva follows him silently into his apartment and arranges the small boxes of Chinese food on the coffee table. Tony begins flipping channels, then stops abruptly.

Ziva glances up. "Is that a movie?"

He grins. "Do they have _Home Alone_ in Israel?"

She frowns. "I do not believe so."

"Well, check it out." Tony reaches for a fork.

With a curious glance Ziva settles beside him. It does not take her long to figure out why Tony has chosen this movie, and she watches his face as the movie nears its end, sees the longing in his eyes when the little child gets his parents back. As they reach the credits, she leans over to the remote and flicks the TV off.

They sit silently for a while, Ziva's gaze trained on Tony.

"It happened to me, once, you know," Tony says after a while. He looks over to make sure she's listening and catches her eyebrow raised in question. "I was with my dad, in Hawaii. He had...things to do, I guess. Left me in the hotel for a while. Nearly a week."

"How old were you?" Her voice is soft.

"Twelve, I think," Tony answers after a moment.

Ziva rests a hand on Tony's shoulder. "You are not a child now," she says firmly. "Gibbs knew that and he trusts you to take care of yourself and the team."

Tony nods, but still looks bereft.

"He still loves you," Ziva adds softly.

He turns to her quickly. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ziva nods, puts her hands on either side of Tony's face, scoots close to him, kneeling on the couch now. Easing toward him, she lays her mouth against his.

For a moment Tony doesn't respond, but when he does it's almost violent, his arms suddenly wrapping around her body, anchoring her against him, or him against her. He kisses her desperately, and Ziva lets him take over, gives him what he needs. In mere moments Tony has flipped them so she's beneath him on the couch and he is pulling at her clothing. She tears off his in turn. It is fast but not too fast. For the briefest moment they escape.

xxx

It happens twice in the next week. The first time is the anniversary of Kate Todd's death. Even if she didn't remember the date, she'd know because for an entire day no one will quite meet her eyes. After work they leave together: McGee, Abby, Tony. She is not invited and she accepts that. But when he shows up at her apartment later with red eyes, she lets him in, gives him what he needs from her. Neither brings it up. Like the last time, the sex is quick and hard and the moment of forgetting when they climax only dulls all the losses they can't discuss for a second.

Two days later he comes to her again. He's known all day she was remembering Ari. Tony doesn't ask about the tears on her cheeks, but he holds Ziva tightly all night long. Neither of them notice, but it the first act of consideration between them.

xxx

And then one night, after their first successful case since Gibbs' departure, Ziva turns up at Tony's door not in her work clothes with takeout but in what just might be the sexiest black dress he's ever seen on a woman.

There's no movie this time; she kisses him the moment she's through the door even as Tony presses her back against it. There's no desperation either, no loneliness. Today they have broken through.

"Are you sure about this?" Tony stops kissing her to ask after a moment.

Ziva laughs, low in her throat. "You're asking me now?"

He shakes his head, unable to put it into words. This isn't about needing anymore, not for either of them. It's about wanting, enjoying. It's about them, and no one else.

She reads it in his eyes, nods her head at him once, smiling. "I am sure, Tony." She gasps as he lifts her so she can wrap her legs around his waist. But instead of taking her there against the wall, Tony carries her to his bed, unwraps her delicately from her dress and explores her with his mouth, his hands, makes her come screaming not once but twice before he finally slides home into her body.

Later Ziva takes her own turn at teasing him, exploring him. She discovers when she reaches his feet that Tony is terribly ticklish under the right circumstances. A moment later he learns Ziva is ticklish nearly everywhere, and they fall off the bed hard as their eager fingertips try to find each other's most sensitive places.

Once they catch their breath from the crash, they laugh until they can't breathe.

It is the laughing that truly begins their relationship, though neither of them calls it that. And that laughter colors the entire summer.


	4. Shalom

**At Every Opportunity**

On to chapter 4! Well, you knew it was coming. This chapter follows at the end of Shalom, in which we find out about the infamous and never-explained pictures Mossad took of Tony and Ziva that summer. There are also references to Sandblast.

* * *

Chapter 4: Shalom

Tony is silent in the car, and Ziva isn't sure whether he's brooding over Gibbs leaving without saying goodbye or over the events of the past three days.

"You could have called me," he finally says, not turning to look at her.

Ziva can hear the hurt in his voice. "Tony," she began. "I only wanted-"

"I know you were protecting us," he cut her off. "I'm not—I'm not mad. Look," now he glanced toward her, "we haven't talked about what this is that we're doing, but maybe we should."

She swallows hard. She knows Tony so well now, as a partner, as a leader, as a man. She knows how much he's risking by trying to have this conversation. "Let's go home first," Ziva answers softly, trying to suppress her own sorrow. It's been a long time since she's done anything as simple as this, taking a lover for pleasure's sake, and they have passed a brilliant few months together. She hasn't given any thought to their future, but she knows she doesn't want this to end.

Tony hears the emotion in her voice, turns toward her with a hint of panic in his eyes. "Ziva?"

She shakes her head slightly.

He knows something is wrong, but he does what he does best in these situations: he jokes. "I brought you some leiderhosen." He even does the funny accent.

Ziva laughs, remembering suddenly how much she missed him while he was away at the conference. Still, she sobers quickly.

As they get out of the car, she turns to scrutinize their surroundings. Tony notes her wariness at once. "You caught her, Ziva," he says softly. "It's over."

She looks at him with an expression he can't interpret, and Tony wonders if he'll ever learn them all. But he can see the tension in her frame right now, knows she needs comfort. He knows her well enough for the moment.

As he lets them into his apartment, Tony turns and takes Ziva in his arms, holds her against him. She hugs him back but pulls away after a minute, takes a few steps away from him. "We do need to talk, Tony," she says softly.

"What is it?" he asks simply.

Ziva closes her eyes, then opens them, falling back on all of her training to keep too much emotion from reading in her face. "When I went to the embassy, to confront them about the bombing, the ambassador did not know why I was there. He thought—my father had Mossad operatives watching me, watching us. He accused me of having an inappropriate relationship with you."

Tony inhales quickly, trying to process the information. "At least he cares what you do," he finally offers, trying for levity.

She shakes her head impatiently. "He did not sanction this. Things could go badly for me, for you."

He raises his eyebrows. "Your father gets to approve your relationships?"

"My director does," she snaps back.

Tony flinches.

"The worst part, though," Ziva continues more softly, "is that I didn't notice. They were onto us for weeks and I never knew." She takes a deep breath, meeting Tony's intense stare, forcing out the rest. "This has distracted us too badly. I cannot afford it and neither can you."

Something hardens, dulls in his eyes as Tony understands what it is she's saying.

"It is not that I don't—care for you," Ziva insists. "But I had to protect you this week and—I will not let you not be safe because of-"

"I get it," Tony cuts her off. "It's probably for the best." His tone is harsh but when he sees Ziva wince, he regrets it. "Hey," he says softly. "Come here."

She hesitates, knowing what comes next, but then steps closer to him, lets Tony draw her into another embrace. She turns her head up to kiss him and he doesn't pause. He brushes his lips over hers, then over the cuts and scrapes on her face, the scratch across her throat, lifts her shirt to kiss her bruised ribs.

As they make their way to the bedroom and have sex—gently because she is still injured—they both know it will be the last time. Ziva finds herself resenting her bruises, anything that pulls her out of the moment. She wishes she could savor this, lose herself in it. Instead she is constantly reminded of what has passed, and every time Tony stops to ask if she's alright she remembers how much he cares for her, and she for him.

And then they are finished, in so many ways. There are no time limits on Eli David's anger. Yet when Tony drives Ziva home later that night, he stops her before she can get out of the car.

"Ziva," he says simply, begging her, the universe, for some other way.

Ziva's eyes are no longer readable as she answers with seeming lightness, "This is not worth dying over." What she means is: I am not worth dying over.

Because they've never discussed this before, never used words like love or future, Tony can't suggest otherwise. He nods slowly and lets her out of the car. But when he tries to tease her about it months later, in the rafters of a warehouse where they nearly have died, he sees in her eyes that no matter what she says, she doesn't want it to be over. He only wishes he'd realized it sooner.


	5. Identity Crisis

**At Every Opportunity**

As you all know, season four and really most of season five have a decent amount of TIVA _angst_, but no real romantic moments. So this is what I came up with to address some of that. I don't love it, but it serves a purpose...I really like tomorrow's chapter, though, so hang in there! This follows Identity Crisis, 5x04, where they finally begin to resolve the emotions of season 4. The first italics bit is dialogue lifted straight from the episode.

* * *

Chapter 5: Identity Crisis

_"You want to sleep with her," Ziva accuses._

_ "Well, so...what if I do?" Tony stops short._

_ "Same old Tony. I thought the new Tony wanted something more, a real relationship."_

_ "I was pretending to be someone else," he defends himself._

_ "Well, you could have fooled me. I thought you had grown."_

_ "I'm not particularly interested in outgrowing sex."_

_ "Sure it would be nice, Tony, but it would be meaningless, empty. It would be wrong for you. She is a pretty girl but she is...just a girl. The man you were becoming needs a woman. At least I thought he did." There is just a hint of something in her eyes as she whirls and leaves._

Ziva stalks off as quickly as she can, her words still ringing in her ears. She reaches the men's room and closes the door behind her, locks herself in. She slips down the wall and buries her face in her hands. She should know so, so much better than this.

Just a few weeks ago, they were here in this bathroom. She had been angry about Jeanne for months, had been at that moment still swept up in grief and elation over Tony's near death. She had snapped at Tony that he should let go of his feelings.

_That easy, huh?_ The taunt still lingers in the air. It still hits home.

She saw it in his face, as she told him that the heart shouldn't want what it wanted, that he knew what she meant, sensed her feelings. And still loved Jeanne.

A knock behind her rattles the door and Ziva is instantly on her feet.

"It's me," Tony's voice calls softly.

She hesitates, then turns the lock.

He pushes it open slowly, checks under the stalls quickly before re-locking the door behind himself. The he turns to Ziva.

She doesn't speak.

Tony watches her. She's been so hard on him all year. At first he knew she was sensitive to his relationship with Jeanne and hated that he couldn't explain it, but the more he fell for Jeanne, the more he tried to force Ziva from his mind. Last week, though, as he teased her about being a romantic, their elevator companion pointed out what Tony was really saying: at heart, Ziva is a girl. He'd tried so hard to forget, but now that his head is finally clearing after the weeks of heartbreak, he knows it's true.

"What is it you want from me?" Tony finally asks, his tone quiet, only a hint there of his frustration. "To never be with anyone else again?"

She looks away, clenches her jaw against the truth.

"You were the one who ended things," Tony hisses.

"I didn't want to!" Ziva answers sharply, impulsively.

He sees the hurt in her face, realizes only now that he puts a word to it how long it's been there. "I didn't pursue Jeanne for—I never meant for it to go like that, Ziva," he said softly. "But you and I ended things. I didn't owe you anything."

Ziva nods once, knowing that logically he's right and hating herself for seeming so emotional. He's right and yet it doesn't change anything. "I watched you die," she whispers. "After that whole night, waiting for you to come and knowing that the best outcome was that you loved her and just wanted to be with her more, I watched-"

Tony sets his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you say anything then?"

She sighs harshly. "You walked back in—I could see it in your face. You did not want me, you wanted her."

Tony shakes his head once. "You think I want to feel this way about her?"

Ziva smiles faintly, sympathetically. "Tony, there is a fantasy of a family you have always had. Because of your mother, your father. A house and a wife and children. And that's not me."

He gapes slightly, uncertain suddenly if she is right or wrong. But either way, he can't fight the urge to comfort her, so he hugs Ziva, holds her tightly, finally giving her the confirmation she needs that he is alright.

Ziva clings to him and Tony thinks: Jeanne never felt this way about him. She cared, sure, but when he wasn't who she wanted him to be she never gave him a second chance. She never accepted him. And whatever Jeanne felt, he was willing to call even that love.

Tony tilts his head down toward Ziva, meets her eyes. Then kisses her.

Ziva hesitates at the sudden, insistent pressure of his lips, then gives into it for a moment, just a wild, desperate moment. Kisses him back, allows him entrance to her mouth, feels his fingers weave into her hair and slides hers around the back of his neck in turn. After so much pain, it feels deliriously good. And then she forces herself to stop, buries her face in his chest.

"We still can't," Tony says flatly, his voice slightly hoarse.

She shakes her head, the point of her chin rubbing against his chest.

"You're that afraid of your father."

Ziva blinks quickly, looks back up at him. "I have watched many people die, Tony. Many people I...cared for. Some of them," she swallows hard, "some of them because of my father."

Tony nods slowly. "Then I'll ask you again," he says softly. "What do you want from me?"

Ziva closes her eyes. She wants everything, but she can't tell him that. "I want you to be safe," she finally manages. "I don't ever want to see you explode again." He laughs shortly at the words, but Ziva is still fighting to keep her voice steady.

He sighs. "I wish-"

"Don't," Ziva says sharply. She can't afford to hear this, either.

Tony gently releases her. "I'll go first," he says simply, and Ziva nods, looking away. As he heads out of the bathroom and down the hall, Tony isn't even sure what it is he would have said. Just that he thinks he'd be willing to change his dreams if he thought they'd have a chance.

Two years later, he'll finally know what Ziva went through, how deeply it shook her to watch him die. And in the moments when pain doesn't cloud away all thought, he'll wonder how she survived that day.


	6. Recoil

**At Every Opportunity**

I'll tell you now so you're not disappointed: I am about to drive away to my family's annual reunion/4th of July celebration, and while tomorrow's chapter is mostly written, I have no idea if my aunt's lake house has internet. So...no promises til I'm back on Monday. But happy 4th!

As for this chapter, it this seems like it's about Recoil, and then when you're not looking, it's about Designated Target. I couldn't really see them getting together after their sparring in thar episode, but those of you who brought it up were right, there was a TIVA thread there. Hope you like what I did with it...

* * *

Chapter 6: Recoil 5x16

Ziva glances back into the bar. Michael Locke is already calling the number she gave him. She nods to herself. At least she's done one thing right.

She glances to the side and notices him at once. "Still following me, Tony?"

"This time I was."

She meets his eyes, caught off guard.

"Can I walk you home?"

Ziva nods once. "Alright." She feels more than hears as Tony opens his mouth, then closes it again, searching for the right words.

"Gibbs said I owe you an apology," Tony finally says.

"He told you to break a rule?" There's just a hint of banter in her tone and Tony is more relieved than he could say to hear it.

He stops walking and waits for her to stop and turn to him. "I'm sorry, Ziva," he says. "I shouldn't have pushed you about Locke."

She sighs. "I know," the words come haltingly, "I know you were trying to take care of me."

Relief washes over him. Tony takes a step toward her, but Ziva quickly takes a step back, whether because of her recent trauma or the possibility of Mossad cameras he's not sure. "Come on." He tilts his head in the direction of her apartment and they start to walk again. "What were you thinking?" he can't help asking, though his tone is more curious than accusatory. "You don't sleep with strange men."

"You are fairly strange," she mutters.

"Ziva." He refuses to let her deflect the question.

She swallows hard. "You're right, I don't. But I...I did not want to be me that night."

"If you needed comfort, or forgetting or just someone to—to whatever. You knew I was there," Tony says emphatically.

Now Ziva stops, takes his hand. "With you I can only be myself, Tony," she says, looking up at him intently.

Tony smiles down at her hesitantly. "That sounds like a good thing."

"It is." She tugs on his hand, pulling him along. They are two blocks from her building. "But I could not be in my own skin. Someone else's house and bed and arms...perhaps it was not the best choice, but it is too late to go back." They walk in silence for a block and a half, Ziva's fingers tightening as they reach her door.

"And now?" Tony stops to ask softly. "What do you need now?"

She meets his eyes as Tony lightly strokes her wrist with his thumb. She knows what she wants, what he wants. Is it what she needs? Ziva isn't sure she can know that. "Stay with me," she whispers.

His eyes widen in surprise, then darken in arousal, but Ziva gives Tony credit for not moving, not betraying this to anyone watching. "Of course it would be hard to be alone after all this," he says, a little too loudly. Ziva suppresses a snort at his acting. "I'll keep you company."

As she turns to unlock the door and leads him up the stairs, Ziva realizes what it is she's done and her heart begins to pound with anticipation.

They get inside and stop, staring at each other, both a little overwhelmed that this actually seems to be happening after a year and a half of pretending it never did, never could.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Tony asks as he sets his free hand on her waist, tugging her against him.

"I'm sure I'm not thinking about shooting Hoff-" Ziva gets out teasingly before Tony kisses her, deeply, hungrily, and if she wasn't sure they needed this before, she is now. She pulls her hand from his so she can wrap her arms around Tony's neck.

He holds her with all the fear of losing her that she remembers from his brush with death a few months ago. The memory makes her all the more eager to have him while she can. Without breaking the kiss, Ziva is pulling at the buttons on his shirt.

They stumble toward the bedroom shedding clothes, and there is a deliciousness in finding they haven't lost their familiarity with each other: Ziva lifts her arms automatically when Tony pulls her shirt off and he knows just when to leave it tangled above her head and tickle her ribs. For a moment, her face still lost in cotton, her laugh becomes a sob, but then she pushes it away. They get to have tonight.

They haven't forgotten other things either: where to touch, when to tease, how hard, how fast—

Later, tangled in the sheets, Tony whispers the ancient question of jealous men into her shoulder. "Was he better?"

Ziva smiles and opens her mouth to needle him, then stops. "No," she says simply.

"Really?" He sits up in bed, preening.

She looks up at him, taps her fingers against his hip. "You know me, Tony."

He meets her eyes, nods once. Tries not to think about walking away in the morning. "Biblically," he says with a leer.

She laughs.

Tony glances at her critically. "You look exhausted," he says gently.

"So?" Her eyes are light in a way he hasn't seen in days.

He doesn't press her to sleep. God knows he doesn't want her to. He lays back down beside her though, drapes an arm around her waist. She traces patterns on his chest with her finger. Tony smiles at the memory it stirs. Once, that summer, he taught her about spelling out secret messages. To use against McGee, he'd said. _How will we explain to McGee that you're not wearing a shirt in the office? _Ziva had asked. But he could never figure hers out; she only ever wrote in Hebrew characters.

"Do you believe in soul mates?" he asks suddenly.

Ziva stops, startled. "What?"

"You asked me that a couple months ago and I blew you off."

She takes a slow breath. "I do not know if I do. Certainly Zeyda and Thomas do not seem like proof."

"They were a lot like us," Tony says heavily.

Ziva raises her eyebrows, waiting for his explanation.

"They were apart even though they never wanted to be. He gave into the circumstances and moved on. She was glad he was okay, but he hurt her..." Tony watches her face, sees Ziva flinch and stops talking.

"The circumstances were very different," she says quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"At the time," he says slowly. "With...with Jeanne. It all blew up so badly." He catches her smile and snorts. "Yeah. Poor choice of words. But I never said-" Ziva's warning look stops him. He knows what it means. "Well," he starts, looking for a way around her interdiction. "I think maybe if Thomas had had the chance, the choice, he would rather have had Zeyda."

"She believed he was her soul mate," Ziva offers.

"Maybe he did, too." It is too intense, too close to an admission. He pulls her against him, kisses her languidly.

Ziva interrupts with a yawn.

"Hey," Tony chuckles.

She scrunches up her face, then burrows against him. "I suppose I am tired," she murmurs.

"It's okay," he says gently. "Go to sleep."

She drops off quickly and falls deeply asleep, making up for several long days of terrible stress, but Tony barely closes his eyes. He focused so closely on her these past few days that he almost forgot why she was such a mess. He almost lost her, almost missed this. For every second he can, he watches Ziva sleep.


	7. Judgment Day I

**At Every Opportunity**

I was surprised to realize how many of you don't like Recoil! I guess I always thought of it as a little one act play in which Cote de Pablo is amazing. I agree that it seems a little out of character for her to get so agitated in the beginning, but Tony seems totally his own flawed self to me: at once terribly worried about her, eager to be the one she relies on and jealous when he isn't...

Anyway, happy fourth of July! This is the first of two chapters for Judgment Day; this one fills in gaps during the episodes, the next one follows the ending.

* * *

Chapter 7: Judgment Day 1

"Good thinking!" Tony jogs up to where Ziva is hailing a cab in the line of cars that had come to accommodate the guests at the funeral.

"You aren't cutting me loose?" she asks mildly.

Tony leans into her personal space slightly. "I promise you'll get to cut loose, Officer David."

They keep the banter to a minimum in the cab; Tony chats with the driver about basketball and Ziva takes in the California scenery. At the hotel they quickly pick up their keys for adjoining rooms and head upstairs.

"See ya!" Tony sings out as he walks into his room.

Ziva rolls her eyes and opens her own door.

Tony pops through the connecting door in a matter of seconds. "Nice place, huh?"

"It is," she answers shortly, setting down her bag. She can feel Tony coming up behind her, settling his hands on her waist.

"Remember the last time we were in a nice hotel together?" Tony murmurs in her ear.

God help her, she does. A flicker of heat lances through her stomach. Ziva turns quickly and Tony doesn't step back, stays pressed closed against her.

"We seem to have some free time on our hands," he says teasingly, his eyes telling her exactly what he wants to do with both their free time and his hands.

Ziva hesitates, then shakes her head. "Tony, Jenny could need us at any minute. We are still on duty, and we cannot betray that even for-"

"She ordered us to take the day!" Tony protests at once, moving back now that the mood is broken. "Who knows when we'll get a chance like this again?" He practically growls the question.

Ziva can see the lust in his eyes, and it draws a response in her at once, but that response is tempered by the cold, clear knowledge that something is off with Jenny. "No, Tony," she says firmly. Then she flutters her eyelashes. "Of course, once the Director is safely in her own room, it will be a different story."

Tony snorts, frowns a bit, then gives up. He knows how stubborn she can be. "So what are we going to do?"

"I am going to go sunbathe. I packed this, just in case." She tugs something from her suitcase and holds out a finger with a wicked smile. Dangling from it is a bikini top made of chain links and striped fabric.

Tony whistles. "How very Princess Leia."

Ziva can't fight a chuckle. "Perhaps I will see you outside."

"Well now," he counters. "I could just stay and watch you-"

She gives him a warning look.

Tony rolls his eyes and heads for his room. "See you at the pool," he mutters.

He takes time while she changes to arrange a car rental. Who wouldn't find it romantic to see the Hollywood sign? But somehow they spend the rest of the afternoon fighting about Jenny and getting progressively more irritated with each other.

All of that disappears when they find themselves standing over Jenny's body, her blood staining the soles of their shoes.

Her cell phone rings, and when Tony presses the call button, their boss's voice rings out. "Jenny? Jenny? Jen?"

"Gibbs," Tony finally says, his voice rough.

"Where's Jenny?" Gibbs demands.

Tony looks at Ziva, not answering, and she takes the cellphone from him.

"She has been shot," Ziva says simply. "She is dead."

They can hear the ragged breath Gibbs draws over the line. Tony closes his eyes, trying to shut out the reality of the moment.

"Call San Diego," Gibbs spits out after a minute of silence. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't do anything without me." The phone's tone tells them he's ended the call.

xxx

That night, after Tony and Ziva have been debriefed by the local agents and have seen Jenny's body bagged for transport, the men from San Diego leave. It took hours for the agents to arrive and process the scene and it is past midnight already.

"We could go back to the hotel," Tony offers hollowly as they watch the caravan of NCIS vehicles pull away.

Ziva shakes her head once.

He nods, then looks over at her. His partner's usually well-schooled features are contorting, tears slipping quickly down her cheeks. Before he can think, Tony's arms are around her, urging her against him as her shoulders begin to shake. In the silence his own throat aches with unshed tears.

It's a minute before she responds to his touch, brings her arms around his body to clutch at Tony's shoulders. His cheeks are wet, too, now.

They stand together beneath the starry desert sky for a long time while the sand blows around them. It is cool now that the sun is long set.

Slowly Ziva's breath comes more easily as her sobs slow. Tony doesn't know what to say. "You were so together..."

She shrugs slightly. "I was a soldier, Tony. There is no time to cry over those who fall in the heat of battle." Ziva wipes a hand across her face, studies her mascara-smeared fingertips in the moonlight. "She was my partner, too. And my friend."

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Ziva sighs heavily. "It is not your fault, Tony. Even if we had been here-"

"Five on three is better odds," he cuts her off.

She looks up at him sadly. "One thing I have had to learn, Tony, is that there are things you can undo and things you cannot. Believe me, mourning is bad enough without also accepting guilt that is not yours."

Something in her voice tells Tony Ziva is speaking from experience, but he hasn't even begun to understand what he's feeling, let alone how to put it behind him. "We should go inside," he murmurs. Ziva nods, lets him put an arm around her waist and guide her in. As they pass the car, he grabs the bag of food she got at the gas station.

They make their way into the diner, avoid the dining area, and pass through the kitchen to the old office space where Decker set up a cot, presumably while he was out planning the renovations. Tony lights some of the candles that are sitting around while Ziva sits down on the bed.

"You should eat something," he finally says, gesturing to the bag he set down on the old desk.

She pauses, then dutifully takes out a gatorade. She has no appetite, but she knows better than to get dehydrated in a desert. She swallows some of it down and passes it to Tony. "Drink."

He sits beside her, takes a swig.

Ziva shifts, rests her head against Tony's shoulder. His hand strokes over her hair, her arm, then he slips behind her and pulls her down with him to the bed, spooned in his arms. She reaches down to tug the blanket folded at the foot of the bed over them both. They kick off their shoes.

Tony tightens his arm around Ziva's waist and she laces her fingers through his. They have no words, no energy left. They have failed Jenny, failed Gibbs, failed NCIS. Eventually the candles flicker out, but neither agent sleeps.

xxx

On the plane home the next day they sleep restlessly on each other's shoulders, both haunted by the look in Gibbs' eyes and the knowledge they won't admit to themselves that they can imagine all too well what he's feeling.

All day Ziva monitors Tony, knows he is still blaming himself, tries to tell him with small touches and their friends' support that this was not his fault. She knows he doesn't believe her. And so she is not surprised to find him alone in the dark in autopsy, drinking to try to blur the metallic scent of Jenny's blood, the way the dust in the diner settled in the pools around their feet, the sight of Jenny reduced to a body, her spirit gone.

Ziva tries to comfort him, again, but instead the conversation works its way somewhere else, and she realizes that even in the midst of the trauma of Jenny's death, Tony can't get around the comparison between himself and Gibbs, Ziva and Jenny, and the knowledge of Gibbs' grief.

"It was inevitable," Tony says, not sure himself whether he is talking about Gibbs and Jenny's love or heartbreak.

"Nothing is inevitable," Ziva corrects, her eyes warning him of something, he's not sure what.

"No?"

Ziva shakes her head. "It is a choice. They made a choice."

Tony turns to meet her eyes. "Did we?"

She takes another swallow of Ducky's whiskey. "Over and over." She meets his gaze as she answers.

He stands, setting down his glass, and moves in front of Ziva where she sits on the desk. She slides off as he moves and suddenly they're only an inch apart. There is the briefest pause and then Tony is kissing her, devouring her. It is a choice and all the reasons not to make it have faded in the face of the events of the last two days.

They stumble across the room until Tony is pressing Ziva into the bank of refrigerators, pulling each other's clothes back just enough for their purposes. There is not much pleasure in it, just urgency and connection. One of the drawer handles digs into Ziva's back, not letting her forget that Jenny is in here somewhere. But this is about the fact that they are still alive, that they have made a choice. That for a moment, at least, they still have each other. They are not alone.


	8. Judgment Day II

**At Every Opportunity**

Um, M. ~Em

* * *

Chapter 8: Judgment Day 2

As they walk down the stairs from the Director's office, all Tony can feel is relief, the sense that justice has been done. This will be his penance: painful, agonizing even, a striping away of everyone he loves. It is exactly what he deserves.

Abby is waiting near their desks, and it is only when she throws her arms around Ziva that Tony looks at his partner. Ziva, who usually tolerates Abby's hugs while looking desperately toward Tony is instead clinging back.

"Ziva!" Abby gasps after a moment. "You're really strong."

"Sorry, Abby." Ziva starts to pull away, contrite, but Abby peeks at her face and holds onto her.

"It's okay, we'll try again." Abby snuggles her arms back around Ziva and the younger woman gently returns the gesture.

Over Ziva's shoulder, Abby sees McGee and realizes, finally, that their expressions are not about Jenny.

"What's wrong?" Abby demands.

When no one else answers, McGee speaks. "We've all been reassigned, Abbs. Me to cyber crimes, Tony to an agent afloat job. Ziva back to Mossad."

Now it's Abby who looks distraught, and she releases Ziva to fling her arms around McGee.

Ziva turns toward Tony, raises her eyes. They are less guarded than usual, and Tony is jolted by what he sees. She is bereft and angry, like McGee and Abby—but behind that, where Tony is sure no one else could see, she is scared. Suddenly he's not alright with this at all.

xxx

Four hours later, their desks are cleaned out and Ziva and Tony are standing in the parking lot with their cardboard boxes. Gibbs, in his pique at Vance, took them all to a long lunch, then dismissed them for the day. Abby and McGee said their goodbyes before carting McGee's things across the courtyard to his new office.

"Tony," Ziva says softly as they reach their cars.

He turns to her. They don't need to speak to understand each other's feelings. "Follow me home?" Tony asks.

xxx

There is something cruelly familiar about watching her car in his rear view mirror. That summer, so long ago now, they would do this after work: Tony driving, trying to keep his eye on Ziva while she used her tricks to keep anyone at work from noticing they were leaving together and heading to the same place. Half the time she'd beat him there, using shortcuts she'd never disclose. Today she stays behind him, her eyes meeting his occasionally when he glances in the mirror. It occurs to Tony every few seconds that everything has changed.

When they arrive at his place, Ziva openly leaves her car, gives Tony a defiant little smile that he returns. He turns and does a pageant wave for any watching cameras, throwing his free arm around her shoulders. Ziva laughs.

Inside she pushes the box out of his arms and kisses him, fierce and deep. For several minutes all thought flees Tony's mind. Then he pulls back, studies her frankly.

"What will happen when you go back?" he asks.

Ziva steps away, straightening the strap of her dress. "I have been gone a long time," she says, glancing around the room. "Three years here, three before that working with Jenny in Europe when she was head of operations there." She looks back to Tony and he sees the same flicker of fear from that morning. "I will be called upon to prove my loyalty."

Tony wants to ask what that will entail but there's a more pressing question right now. "Will I ever see you again?"

Ziva purses her lips, takes a slow breath. "I do not know."

"Couldn't we just-" he flings his arms out, knowing she can imagine as well as he can the freedom of running away, starting over. For a moment Tony thinks Ziva might even agree, but then her gaze drops to the floor.

"We can't," she whispers.

He knows, in that moment, why she was kissing him so fiercely. No matter what she says, Ziva is completely sure that they will never see each other again. It hits Tony like a sucker punch. Never. Before he's thought of moving, his hands are on either side of Ziva's face, pulling her close to kiss her over and over, memorizing the sensation, the way her lips taste, the way her hair smells, the delicious noises he can coax out of her.

Ziva pulls him toward the couch, but Tony shakes his head, determined not to rush this. He slides the zipper of her dress down with agonizing slowness, teasing her with his eyes, his gaze a promise of extraordinary pleasure. In moments her underwear have fallen too. Tony takes a moment to look at her, naked in the middle of his living room. If he didn't think Ziva would injure him, he'd ask to take her picture like this. The thought flits through his mind, leaves behind a smirk on Tony's lips.

"What?" she demands, bracing her hands on her hips.

Tony laughs and Ziva narrows her eyes.

"What?"

He tickles her and runs for the bedroom as she snatches up a pillow from the couch and chases him, whacking him as best she can until they land on the bed, Tony on his back and Ziva straddling his waist. After holding the pillow high in a warning for a moment, she tosses it away, arches her hips against his with a wicked smile and begins to undo Tony's shirt.

For several excruciating minutes she divests him of his clothing one piece at a time, until finally they are both naked. They stare into each other's eyes, daring each other to move first, the tension between them winding tighter and tighter. Then it explodes.

xxx

Late that night, as they lay together in the dark, tangled up and exhausted with pleasure, Tony thinks to himself that nothing will ever live up to this for the rest of his life. He feels Ziva shift slightly, her eyelashes stroking his shoulder. Tony isn't sure if she's awake or asleep, but he whispers the words he can't contain, not now. "I love you." They are foreign to his lips.

She stills for a fraction of a second and Tony knows she heard.

Ziva doesn't speak.

xxx

They wake near dawn to make love again, and watching her walk out physically hurts, but worst is that Tony knows she heard. He carries the lingering silence in his heart for months.


	9. Agent Afloat

**At Every Opportunity**

So, a bunch of you anticipated this chapter and the relevant dialogue in Agent Afloat, so I'm not going to spell it out. In case you've forgotten: Ziva tells Tony he could have called (he didn't) and that he looks older. He gives a little speech about missing having the same people around and how McGee (Tony) must be lonely. And he tells her that no matter what she says, he can see in her face that something happened in Israel. Good? good. And to those of you who did review, I adore you! You make my day :) Read on...

* * *

Chapter 9: Agent Afloat

Ziva enters her apartment and puts down her overnight bag. She glares at her laptop, but goes to it, enters the codes she needs. Michael emailed while she was in Cartagena. She sighs. There was no use hoping that this would go away just because she wanted it to. She snaps the lid closed; it will wait until morning.

At least Tony is back. Every time she remembers, a smile crosses her face. And then she remembers the photos and she blushes. She played it off for McGee and Gibbs, but DC really has not been the same without Tony. There has been no one who knows her well enough to comfort her, to laugh with her. No best friend, no lover.

A knock vibrates the door and Ziva springs to her feet, irrationally sure it is Michael. She rests a hand on her gun even though the thought quickly passes. As she peeks through the peephole, Ziva relaxes.

"Hello," she swings the door open and allows Tony to enter.

"So, that guy is still subletting my place," Tony says by way of explanation as he sets down his bag.

She nods, smiling, taking in his presence. Everything else has gotten so complicated, but this is joy.

Tony looks at her seriously. Ziva shrinks slightly under his gaze, enough that he knows he wasn't entirely wrong earlier when he accused her of keeping something from him. He moves slowly but surely into her space. "Ziva."

"Tony." She grins.

"In Israel-"

Ziva's face falls, her smile wiped away. Her eyes grow nervous.

Tony's stomach plummets. "Look," he says quickly. "Even after four months of thinking I'd never see you again, I never stopped-" He grimaces, not wanting to go so far, to bring up now the thing that held him back from calling her all this time. "Ziva," Tony says urgently, firmly. "Can't we just get what we want for once?"

Ziva's eyes dart back over his face. She grabs a fistful of his shirt and kisses him.

The first kiss is chaste and leaves them both surprised that Tony's ploy is working.

"I meant that I wanted real pizza-" Tony gets in with a smirk, and then they're kissing again, making up for four wasted months of loneliness and fear.

They've done this before, but it's heightened now by the separation, by all the nights they spent apart remembering, imagining, longing. The pleasure they found alone or with strangers was nothing like this: _his _lips at her breast, _her _nails on his back. Tony pins Ziva to the bed, watches her face as she screams in pleasure as he takes her. For a split second it flickers through his head that his sex ed teacher from high school was right: it is better when you're in love.

Even when they're finished they can't seem to let each other go.

xxx

Tony wakes with a shiver. The fall night is cool and somehow he's kicked off all the covers. As he reaches for a blanket and realizes it's not standard issue, remembers with a flush of heat how it ended up on the floor, it comes back to Tony where he is. He can see a line of light under the door to the living room and quickly puts on his boxers before opening it.

"Ziva?"

She turns guiltily from her computer. She's sitting in front of it, wrapped in the sheet that was also missing from the bed.

It is the guilt in her eyes that sends a ripple of fear through Tony. "What are you doing?" He knows he sounds wary but can't help it.

Ziva nods. Tony sees the defeat in her eyes and braces himself. Their moment is about to end. "In Israel...I was assigned to involve someone. Like you and Jeanne."

His eyes darken. "How much like me and Jeanne?" Tony demands.

"I thought I would never see you again," she says sadly, closing the computer and standing but making no move to approach him.

An icy fist is clamping around his heart. "But then—why did you even do this?" Heartbreak makes his voice sharp.

Ziva watches him bleakly as he begins to pace. She answers slowly, completely honest because she has regretted for months the one time that she was not. "Because I am a soldier, but more than anything in the world, I wanted this." She swallows hard, bracing herself for the words. "I love you, too."

He freezes, staring at her intently. "You heard me."

"Yes." She nods once.

"Why didn't you say so months ago?" A hundred hours, wasted on self-condemnation as someone unlovable.

Ziva flinches at the aching in his voice. "How could I say it and then leave you?"

There it is. Sometimes he forgets, like a child, that other people's minds are as complicated as his own. Tony nearly sobs in relief. He slowly gathers Ziva into his arms. Then reality reasserts itself. "Are you in love with-"

"No." She shakes her head vehemently. "But I...I am still under orders. And close scrutiny." Ziva aches as she watches understanding blossom in Tony's eyes.

Tony hugs her tighter, then abruptly banishes the news from his mind. "You love me," he murmurs into her hair. He could spent the rest of the night, the rest of his life, reveling in this knowledge. "And we're together." He pulls back sharply and looks down at Ziva. "And someday this will work."

It is almost an order, and he seems so sure that Ziva smiles in delight. Of course it is merely a promise, but she trusts him more than anyone else in the world. For a few hours, she even believes it.


	10. Cloak

**At Every Opportunity**

Alright, home stretch! There are roughly six more chapter after this, which should work out nicely because seven days from now I'm taking off on a week-long trip to find somewhere to get my next graduate degree. Huge thanks to those of you who've been reviewing regularly! Enjoy...

* * *

Chapter 10: Cloak/Dagger

Tony makes it halfway down the hall before he realizes Ziva isn't following, then whirls impatiently, in time to see the doors closing with her still inside. He slams down on the button and the elevator opens quickly. Tony sees Ziva's face go blank, but he also sees the moment right before: the sadness in her eyes. He plays their conversation back in his head.

_I'm tired of pretending._

_ So am I._

"Hey." He steps back into the elevator and pulls the emergency stop as soon as the doors close. "What's wrong?"

Ziva shakes her head, then looks at him for a long moment. "It was not simply a reflex," she finally says. "I saw you fall—I could have killed them all."

Tony sighs. "This is why there are rules," he says softly, seriously.

She studies him thoughtfully. Tony can't quite read her intent. "What's wrong?" Ziva asks.

He swallows. He wants to ask her about the photo in her desk, but he also doesn't. He remembers all too well, from Jeanne, what it felt like: getting to have someone tangible and passionate in your arms instead of an endless fantasy. Those nights she was in Israel he spent a lot of time remembering. But she hasn't said anything, and he won't push her.

"We spend our whole lives following rules," Tony says instead. "Following orders." Ziva's eyes dart to his and he knows she didn't miss his inflection on the last word.

"We have to follow them even when we disagree," she answers emphatically, seeking his understanding.

Tony smiles thinly. "Do we?"

Ziva's eyes widen. She's not sure what he's asking her to do, but it scares her to suddenly realize that at some point, this will be a choice she'll have to make. And if last night's mission is any evidence, she's already made it.

Tony frowns as he struggles to comprehend her reaction. She was perfectly willing to yell at him about following orders before, but now Ziva is silent. He studies her face, notices the lingering bruising where her nose and lip were bloodied the night before and feels the same protective urge he knows was driving her. Tony puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into into his arms, rests his cheek against her hair.

Ziva can feel the tension that hasn't left his body, knows that as Tony strokes her hair he is putting aside his own emotions to take care of her. It fills her with an almost overwhelming sense of guilt.

Ziva is the first to pull away. "Tony..." she murmurs, looking up.

He presses a swift kiss to her forehead. "I'm tired of this, too."

She nods, then feels his arms slip from around her waist.

"I'm going to find Gibbs." He reactivates the elevator.

Ziva smiles tightly. "I'll be along in a minute."

Tony nods once and heads out.

xxx

Later that night, in a dark corner of a bar, he finds Ziva nursing a drink.

"The things people will do to protect their sisters, huh?" Tony says with fake lightness.

Her eyes come up to rest on Tony with gratitude. They don't spend as much time together lately as they used to; somehow finally admitting their love for each other has made it harder to pretend it doesn't exist—harder to sit together in a bar and not touch, kiss, tease; harder to talk about anything and everything without also discussing their feelings, their future. But it has been a long two days, and there's no one else Ziva would rather have with her.

"When you love someone, it makes you vulnerable," she answers, and they both know she's not talking about Michelle Lee.

"It also makes everything else in your life better," Tony responds gently, his expression telling her exactly what he means.

Ziva smiles affectionately at him.

Her phone rings and Ziva pulls it out, stares at the name. Her face falls and she glances warily back up at Tony. "I have to take this."

"Go, I'll pay," he says quickly.

Her eyes apologize as Ziva rises and answers the phone. "Shalom." She heads for the door.

Tony is left to watch her go, and to ponder the repercussions of love alone in the dimness.


	11. Knockout

**At Every Opportunity**

First to clear up some confusion: Tony and Ziva are not formally together, and haven't slept together since Agent Afloat, but now that they've admitted their feelings, they aren't going back to denying things. Basically, they're in limbo. And not happy limbo.

So, back when Legend/Aliyah first aired, I HATED the way Ziva was portrayed and all the 'jealous' remarks. Part of the purpose of this chapter is to change the context so that she doesn't seem as ridiculous by the time we get to Aliyah (tomorrow, I think) as she actually did in the episode. I really disliked Knockout too and the way it depicted Tony; I thought the show gave too much weight to his relationship with Jeanne. Anyway, think back to Tara making all her intimations about Tony and Ziva, but now do it in the context of this story...

Last, as of yesterday, people in 53 countries are reading this story. How cool is that? You guys are awesome.

* * *

Chapter 11: Knockout

Tony walks quickly back to his desk after seeing Tara to her car and stops in his tracks when he sees Ziva sitting at his desk. He smiles at the sight. After everything Tara said, he can't help wondering whether keeping each other at a distance is working, or is even worth it. Do they really gain any safety by staying apart? He takes the last few steps to get her attention.

Ziva raises an eyebrow, clearly ready to tease, and holds up the wallet he left in his desk drawer. She smirks. "There really is a crease."

After a quick glance around to make sure no one is in ear shot, Tony glares with mock defensiveness. "Ever since you and I...well, you've always been on birth control. Shouldn't you take this as reassurance I'm not sleeping with anyone else?"

Sadness flickers over Ziva's features. She looks down and rubs her thumb around the circle of raised leather. "I would not judge you if you did," she says softly. "We all have needs."

Ice forms in the pit of Tony's stomach, because he knows what she's really saying, why she's giving him permission. Whoever the man is in the picture in her desk, her phone, she's had sex with him.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" he asks, his voice steely. "My place or yours, later?" He knows that if he could just hold her, remind her for a moment that what they have could still be real, she'll remember...But when he looks at her again he knows Ziva hasn't forgotten, hasn't simply cheated on him. She has orders. "Please?" he adds.

Ziva hears the pleading in his voice, but then something twists inside her, telling her it would be wrong to be with him. Ziva feels like the oxygen has been sucked from her lungs. Somewhere along the way her allegiance has gotten confused. A moment ago she was sure she loved Tony, but suddenly choosing him feels like betraying Michael, the man who charms her and gets to touch her and knows her world. It doesn't change her feelings for Tony, but it recasts them in a way she has no control over.

He sees it in her eyes before she can say anything. Tony remembers Jeanne, remembers what it felt like. But if she ever felt the way he feels now, how could she let this happen?

Ziva's mouth twists in anguish and apology. "I can't, Tony," she forces out. Her eyes flicker away from him and back, not wanting to face his pain and hating herself for causing it.

"Oh," he says, hears himself say. A soft _oh_ like the wind being knocked out of him. The four months at sea believing she didn't love him were terrible at the time, but after six months of knowing she does, this is much worse.

Ziva takes a deep breath, straightens her features as she hears McGee and Abby's voices coming down the hall. "Maybe we should, Tony-" she says quickly, desperate to comfort him.

"No. Never mind," Tony snaps, and walks away quickly even when Abby calls after him.


	12. Legend Semper Fidelis Aliyah

**At Every Opportunity**

This chapter covers the last four episodes of season 6. Some of the references are brief, but I'm assuming that if you're reading this in the first place, you have more than a passing familiarity with the end of season 6. If you don't, send me a message and I'll explain it. Or stop reading and go netflix the DVDs!

* * *

Chapter 12: Legend—Aliyah

x Legend/Semper Fidelis x

It's not until he sees the news footage that Tony really understands what's at stake. He's been angry at her for weeks, knows he's been forcing her away. And then he gets a glimpse of her, bloodied and barely conscious, and everything falls into place.

The man from her photograph is in the scene, his attention half on Ziva as he monitors the crowd. Tony sees in Ziva's face the same desperation he felt when they were apart—and beside her he sees a man who is not wearing the expression of a man in love. Tony can feel that expression on his face even now: the horror, the panic at seeing Ziva hurt, even though he knows that she's survived.

Whether Ziva sees it or not, that man is not in love with her. His own heart constricts as Tony begins to realize what it will mean for her to be betrayed again. He is still hurt but it is fading. Beneath his hurt and anger, there was always love. And she needs him now whether she knows it or not. Tony heads for the lab.

That evening in the elevator, Tony asks her glibly about Michael Rivkin, the man who has wormed his way between them. When Ziva doesn't answer, he lets it go.

Over the next few days he tries over and over to push her to understand what he could see in an instant. She can't, or won't. Ziva's not wrong when she says he's jealous; the truth is that at home, at night, the jealousy consumes him. He has too many memories of her in his bed for sleep to come easily. Seeing her kiss Rivkin openly in a restaurant is like a sucker punch. But she's wrong about everything else, and it makes Tony crazy that he wasted so much time getting angry over her feelings for Rivkin that she won't listen to him now.

He will wonder later, playing back those days, what might have been different if he'd confronted her earlier, some other way, but there will be no going back.

x Aliyah x

It has been a long day, a long week, a long year, and Ziva is tired. But as she rests her forehead on the top of the steering wheel and runs the events of the day over in her mind—the ICE agent's death, Tabul's death, Michael's prying and drinking—she reaches an unavoidable truth: regardless of her feelings, when forced to choose whom to trust, she can only choose Tony. His pursuit of Michael has been relentless, aggravating, but she cannot deny that Michael was hiding something behind his drunkenness at lunch.

Wearily she reaches for her phone. As she stares at it, Ziva sighs heavily, then lets a faint smile shape her lips. No matter what happens next, and she hopes for his sake that Mossad is lenient with Michael, sooner or later this will be over. The next thought widens her smile: as many chances as they've had, perhaps she and Tony will get just one more.

Ziva scrolls through her phone, finds Hadar's name. Places the call.

xxx

When she sees them both bloodied on the floor, Ziva doesn't know who to run to. It is clear who is more seriously injured, so she kneels beside Michael.

He apologizes but she doesn't forgive him, can't. If he is apologizing he was in the wrong, and has destroyed this life for her beyond any redemption. The picture she has always kept of herself with Tali and Ari is shattered on the floor, and just like with Ari Ziva's love and betrayal and grief for Michael are tied into an unravelable knot.

So are her feelings for Tony. She can't look at him, let alone speak to him. If she hadn't been thinking of him, if she had only made that call two minutes earlier, had beaten Tony back to her apartment...the what-ifs are endless. Her day goes past in a blur of grief and confusion, coalescing only at the feeling of Michael's cold skin beneath her fingertips.

xxx

The whole flight, Ziva doesn't speak except to answer direct questions from Gibbs or Vance. She spends the hours in the dense, recycled air trying to untangle in her mind what Michael must have been doing all this time. By the time they land, she is fairly certain he has been using her all along—why else would Hadar attempt to have him killed?

But as soon as her father says Rivkin was following orders, she realizes the truth: the bomb was set for her. Ziva goes after Hadar, hoping for another answer. It is clear there isn't one. After everything, everyone she has put aside for Mossad, she has been judged unworthy.

The part of Ziva that Tony loved doesn't want to believe it, but the little girl who searched every crowd for her father knows that it is true. So she does everything she can to prove it to Tony, too: implies she wishes him dead, pins him to concrete with her gun, denies the love she has felt for him for years. She is angry—she almost means it. But as Ziva walks away she catches sight of him in the glass one last time. There is pain in his eyes because of her. It is the thing that, more than any other, she wishes she could take back.

The knowledge of what she has done burns through her, charring her soul. He tried to protect her, and in exchange she trusted her father, long after she should have known better. In trusting him she has made Ari's death meaningless, one more irredeemable act.

She cannot condemn them to more of the pain she brings. Ziva tells Gibbs she can't work with Tony, obscuring the details she can't admit.

_ I need to be able to trust the people I work with. I know you more than anyone understand that._

And Gibbs does, of course. He remembers Jenny, how quickly emotional relationships get in the way of working relationships when they go badly. He believes that Ziva betrayed him with Rivkin, and because she does too, she makes no objection when he kisses her cheek and walks away.

As she watches them fly away, Ziva is filled with the knowledge of her own wicked selfishness, because even after all she has put him through, she wishes she had Tony beside her.

xxx

Trying to process Gibbs' explanation as the plane takes off, Tony is more scared than hurt. It chilled him how much Eli David knew about their relationship, how much control he demanded over Ziva. He wasn't lying earlier when he said he did what he had to do to protect her, even knowing what the cost might be. Michael was wrong: Tony never hoped he'd come over and have Ziva fall into his arms. He'd known she wouldn't. Tony believed she would be safer because of what he was doing. But he was completely wrong, and now he is terrified she'll pay the price.


	13. Truth or Consequences Reunion

**At Every Opportunity**

Wow guys, it was only rewatching after this season of mediocrity that I fully appreciated how good Truth or Consequences was. Really fantastic. This chapter takes us through the first two episodes of season 7. Do you all have any favorite season 7 moments from here til Jet Lag? I never rewatched most of this season, and it's all sort of a blur.

Caution: references to rape.

* * *

Chapter 13: Truth or Consequences - Reunion

Salim and his men are right, Ziva deserves to be tortured. Not for their reasons, whatever their reasons are, but because after a lifetime of pain and isolation, she found love and acceptance and one person she could always trust—and then she pushed him away and betrayed him and broke his heart. Late at night, when Salim's men have left her bruised and bloodied and violated on the dirt floor, Ziva's torture continues at her own hands.

Sometimes she plays over and over in her mind the best moments of their long and twisted love affair: Tony tickling her that first night that they made love, the look in his eyes the first time she said the words, the feeling of safety she found whenever he put his arms around her. With each memory comes the knowledge that she will die here without ever seeing him again.

Other nights Ziva forces herself to imagine who he'll get to be without her—the woman he'll love, the children they'll raise. If she were a good person she'd wish for him to be happy but she can't.

And then, just to steep herself in pain, she'll tell herself the truth: that if Tony knew her the way Salim knows her, the way her father knows her, knew all her crimes, he'd never have loved her in the first place.

xxx

Tony's nights are not so different. Until they find out about the Damocles, he's still hanging in there. He hopes, even believes sometimes, that Ziva will find her way back to them. After everything they have been through, the miracle of her walking up to him in a bar in Cartagena, he can't make himself give up. Tony tries everything he can to get her back.

They get word that she's dead and his world implodes. On the nights that he doesn't drink himself to sleep, Tony stares at her picture and tortures himself with impossible dreams. He plans their wedding, their honeymoon, names their children. Sometimes they have daughters: Tali, Kate, Kelly. Other times a veritable football team of boys with the names of his closest friends. When he closes his eyes, he can see Ziva fighting beside him or laughing or simply asleep. The worst fantasies are the ones that come in dreams. Tony wakes gasping from the touch of Ziva's hands, the sound of her voice. She's never coming back this time, though.

Gibbs pulls him aside, tries to gently convince him to let it go. He can't.

After a month of agony, Tony can't take it anymore. He'd rather live in a drunken haze or a blur of memories than deal with his pain. But really he'd rather not live like this at all.

xxx

One day, just like any other since she's been here, a bag is forced over Ziva's head and she's dragged out of her cell. Her whole body aches as they force her down the hallway; lately they have found less reason to torture her but still enjoy starving her, raping her. She can't even bring herself to wonder what's coming next.

Suddenly she is flooded with light, and then Tony is asking her about her summer. Ziva tries to push him away, as if that could keep him away from here, keep him safe. It takes a few minutes to realize he is really there, that she is not merely one blow to the head closer to death.

"Why are you here?" she finally demands.

"Couldn't live without you, I guess."

To Ziva they sound like more words of blame. She tells him the truth: she doesn't deserve his rescue. She is ready to die for her sins.

Tony will not allow it, and the fact that he is here at all is suddenly filling Ziva with a rising bubble of hope she thought was long dead. He tells her the plan, but then that it may take days, and her fragile hope is burst. And then he whispers her name. She had almost forgotten.

After a few more minutes of terror, Gibbs says, _Let's go home._

Ziva drifts off into the dimness of unconsciousness, hoping for a second time in a few minutes. Hoping this will not be a dream.

xxx

Ziva drifts back to consciousness aware of the rough fabric of a desert camouflage shirt beneath her cheek. Without moving, she establishes where she is: laying across several seats on a plane that's in the air, the top of her head pressed against a leg that smells like Gibbs', his hand stroking slowly over her hair, down her shoulder. She opens her eyes a crack, then closes them. Across the aisle, McGee is sitting with Tony similarly asleep beside him.

She thinks about speaking, telling the men she's awake. But after so long, it's enough to just bask in the presence of these people.

Gibbs' hand on her head trembles a moment.

"Are you okay, Boss?" McGee asks.

He doesn't answer aloud for a moment. "I didn't even hope for this," Gibbs says roughly. "Thought I might have lost you all before I got back to DC."

Ziva fights to stay still, not to look up at their expressions.

"I think that's what Tony wanted," McGee says, very, very softly.

Her breath catches in her chest.

"Death by terrorist," Gibbs agrees.

"He even told her," McGee adds. "Said he couldn't live without her. But before that...he told Salim he didn't even care about our team anymore."

Gibbs sighs heavily. "And it was true," he muses, thinking of the drugs in Tony's system. "Well if you believe in anything, McGee, thank it for a miracle. It was much more likely we'd come back with neither of them than both."

Ziva can't see if McGee nods, but both men stop talking. She's still too dehydrated to cry but she feels her lungs constricting in torment. She never pulled the trigger but she nearly killed him.

xxx

When people come into her hospital room—Ducky or Gibbs, nurses, doctors—Ziva wakes every time, agitated for several minutes until she can process what has happened. She wakes again in the middle of the night and is surprised to find Tony sitting by her bedside, his head in his hands on the edge of her bed. She closes her eyes again before he can open his.

The mattress shifts beneath her legs and Ziva knows he's turned toward her.

"I guess this is what you need now," Tony says softly. "Rest. Healing... I'm sorry I tried to talk to you on the plane, to hug you. I know it's too soon and...I don't want to think about what Salim might have..." His voice breaks off a moment. "I don't blame you for pulling away."

Even if she were fully awake, Ziva wouldn't know how to answer him. Tony is quiet for a long time, and Ziva begins to drift back to sleep. Then he speaks again. "Maybe you don't love me anymore. I mean, how could you? But I need you in my life. Don't you dare give up on me, Ziva. I love you."

For just a moment, Tony's fingers squeeze her hand gently. Then his chair squeaks as he rises.

"I'll see you when you're ready," he murmurs from the direction of the doorway.

The handle clicks softly as he closes it.

After the sound of his footsteps has faded, Ziva opens her eyes, staring at the place Tony used to be. Somehow she's been granted her life, but things will have to be different now. His safety means more than anything. Tony may need her, but she can't let him love her anymore.

xxx

The day after she is released, Ziva goes to Gibbs, then Vance, saying the things she needs to say to get back to NCIS. All of it comes easily except for Gibbs' last condition: to talk to everyone, including Tony.

In the office, their eyes meet, and she sees how greedy he is for this reassurance. So she gives it to him, gets caught up in it herself. They are awkward with each other. So much is still left unsaid.

_ I will be right here_, Tony promises. She can't help the flutter of her heart.

A few days later, in the men's room as always, Ziva tells him the one thing she knows is true: she is sorry. She can see the urgency in his eyes, the desire to kiss to her. To stop him she leans up, presses her lips to his cheek. His stubble is rough against her skin, his breath soft on her ear. It takes everything she has not to throw her arms around him and claim just one moment of comfort. But he has given her enough.


	14. Inlaws and Outlaws Endgame

**At Every Opportunity**

Thanks to everyone who sent me suggestions, and also to the nameless youtube users who have neatly compiled all the scenes Tony and Ziva were in for each episode of season 7! This chapter falls after Outlaws and In-laws (7x06) but includes references to some of the surrounding episodes. Now, I know some of the events of this chapter are a little far-fetched, but don't lose the context of the story, rather than the episode. The way they are here, I do think this is plausible.

* * *

Chapter 14: Outlaws and In-laws / Endgame

Tony hesitates as he reaches up to knock at Ziva's door. It's late and he doesn't want to startle her. He snorts. At one time this would have been expected, but lately there's been nothing but silence between them. Every time he tries to open his mouth, to address everything that lies between them, Ziva tells him with no more than a glance to leave her alone. All the things it's making him crazy not to know—about Somalia, about where they stand—she won't discuss. Tony's retaliated by naming her probie and grouping her with McGee, creating his own layer of distance.

He takes a deep breath and raps his knuckles against the wood. Sometimes you just have to push through barriers with all the force you have. Tonight that seems like the only option.

The bolts click, and after a moment the door opens. Ziva is wary, tense as she stands before him. Her hand is on her weapon. She steps back after a moment to let him in but does not relax.

"Fearing your neighbors, how American," Tony cracks as he enters and sheds his coat.

Ziva rests against the back of the couch, still on alert. She studies him for so long that Tony begins to squirm. "Did you come here in the middle of the night to tell me you do not want me to become an American, Tony?"

He sighs, trying to remind himself they can't pick up from a year ago. "I just wanted to make sure that flash-bang didn't startle you too bad."

Surprise plays out over her features, softening them. "Thank you," Ziva says simply. "I am fine."

Tony nods slowly. "This stuff, the American stuff—it used to be something we could talk about."

Ziva raises an eyebrow. "All day you have seemed set against me becoming a citizen."

Tony's palms are sweating. He chuckles. "I had something else in mind. There's an easier way."

"What?" she asks, suspicious but smiling.

"I didn't think this would be so nerve wracking," he splutters.

Ziva's eyes narrow further. "What?" Her tone is more serious now.

He swallows hard, staring into her eyes as he tries to find the words. "Marry me."

Ziva jerks backward, her eyes wide. She is completely speechless.

Tony rushes in to explain. "You can be an American without all this nonsense—you'd be safe from your father. And we could still be on the same team! They let you if you're married. And..." _And I want to marry you. _The words are on his lips but she looks so shocked he can't force them out.

She clenches her eyes closed. "Tony, I think you should leave."

"So that's a no, then?" he chokes out.

Ziva meets his eyes, hers full of pity and pain. "The one thing I learned from everything this spring...from Michael...was what a disaster it can be to get involved with someone you work with. It is clearer than ever to me how dangerous it is to have feelings for anyone."

"Well we wouldn't have to really be involved," Tony tries to emphasize.

She cocks her head, gives him a knowing look. Then Ziva sighs. "No, Tony."

His breath catches in his lungs. He never really had a plan, never thought all the way through the question to her answer. "You are staying, though?" he demands.

Ziva nods. "Yes."

Tony nods along in relief.

She looks away. "It is very late, Tony."

"I should go," he says softly.

"Yes." She closes the door behind him and gasps for breath.

As she falls asleep that night, her iron control slips for a moment and Ziva imagines what it would be like: a simple ceremony with their friends, a wedding night in his arms. The idea of being anyone's wife is foreign, but somehow the thought of being Tony's is not so strange. She blinks back the tears that threaten to fall. If her life were different, it would be everything she could want. But her life is this.

xxx

Ziva can barely face Tony over the next few days. He tries to pretend nothing happened, but they slip, awkward with each other. He calls her an assassin; she calls him her brother. She talks about settling down, then hastily takes it back, swearing off Chad Dunham or any other roving agent. Tony giggles at the mention of brute force, and when she gives him the elevator eyes neither of them are sure how to take it.

And then there are the strangest moments of all, the moments when the world as they know it aligns for a second with the way the world used to be. McGee walks off with his new girlfriend and Tony and Ziva slip into familiar companionship.

"Well they seem good together," Ziva says kindly. "Like it was meant to be."

"If you believe in that kind of thing," Tony answers, watching her carefully.

Ziva frowns at him curiously and receives a gentle smile. With a lurch she knows he's remembering a conversation they once had in bed, wrapped in sheets and each other's bodies. A conversation where he as much as admitted that he thinks she's his soul mate. She drops her eyes. "It would be good for McGee, is all I meant," she tosses back as she returns to her work.

Tony watches her as she settles down. There's no forcing through the barriers she's created to protect herself, but at moments like this, seeing the emotion play out on her face as she remembered who they used to be to each other, he's willing to wait it out. She's alive. Tony grins to himself. He can still hardly believe it.


	15. Flesh and Blood

**At Every Opportunity**

I love this episode, so I made it a chapter. Also I decided that I needed there to be an arc of relationship development (who'd think with this show?) over the course of the next several chapters, and it begins here. Only three more! For those of you who are a little overwhelmed by the angst, I'm not planning to finish this off conclusively (I'll extend it in the fall if we get any hints of TIVA) but I do plan to leave it on a hopeful note.

* * *

Chapter 15: Flesh and Blood

Tony is distracted as he drives away from the train station. It's a lot to wrap his mind around, this idea that his father might be proud of him, love him. He sighs as he's forced to stop at a light, then grins as he recognizes a familiar form running down the sidewalk.

"Ziva!" he shouts, rolling down the passenger side window. She doesn't hear; her headphones are in. He slams the horn as hard as he can.

She instantly twists toward the noise, her hand reaching for her waistband—and twists an ankle, crumbles to the sidewalk.

Tony flinches comically as he watches it happen, then veers his car quickly to the side of the road and pulls over. He darts around the car just as Ziva pulls herself gingerly to her feet. "Careful there, probie!" he says quickly.

Ziva glares mildly, then limps to a bench.

Tony looks up and grins, points with an eager finger. "Ziva."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, Tony, we are in front of the Spy Museum."

He sits down beside her quickly, still smiling. "Are you alright?"

Ziva nods, then winces as she probes her ankle with her fingertips. "You may have to take me home."

"Are you propositioning me?" Tony teases.

She laughs, to both their surprise.

"Don't worry," Tony says as they calm down. "I really am sorry."

"I'll be fine," she assures him. Then Ziva turns and gives Tony a curious look. "What are you doing down town?"

His jaw hardens. "Had to drop Senior off at Union Station." He can feel Ziva evaluating him.

She takes a deep breath, then asks. "Are you angry with him?"

Tony pauses to consider his answer. "I don't—I don't think so. No." He looks at Ziva, still choosing his words. "It's been so long since I've seen him, I think I see him more clearly. Or differently anyway." He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm the age now that he was when my mom died and left him with me to raise. And God knows I wouldn't know what to do with a kid."

Ziva shrugs. "You might surprise yourself," she offers.

He tries to read her but can't, moves on. "Had any word from your father lately?"

Just the thought sends a shiver through her that he doesn't miss.

"Look," Tony says. "I don't like asking and having you blow me off, but sooner or later you'll be ready to talk about it and I don't want to miss my chance. So what's up?"

Her face softens for a moment, then she looks at him suddenly. "Sometimes it is easier to forget than to think about," Ziva says dismissively. "But...no. I have not heard from him since Mordecai Ben Guidon was here."

Tony nods. "How'd that all work out?"

She winces. "I told Gibbs the truth." Ziva swallows hard. This is the part she has only told Gibbs. Surely Tony deserves to know, too. "I was in Somalia because my father sent our team there. But by the time we arrived, I was the only one fit to fight. We knew—if I went after Salim, no one expected me to come back." Her voice is monotone, but she still struggles through the end of the story. "He ordered me in anyway."

They sit for a moment in silence before suddenly realizing that Tony has grabbed Ziva's hand and she's clutching it back. Ziva begins to pull away but Tony grips her hand harder.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs.

She starts to shrug.

"No, really, Ziva," he insists. "I never thought my father cared much at all, but today he said he loved me," he smiles at the memory, "and even though I'm not sure how to take it, that nine year old kid in me-"

"Please tell me he's not the only one?" Ziva interrupts drily.

Tony glares. "He really appreciated hearing it." His face fades back to sympathy. "I can't imagine always being told your father loved you and then..." He trails off, shaking his head.

Ziva nods once, staring down at her knees. "He believed I had changed," she says softly.

Tony tugs on her hand but she doesn't turn. "Change can be good."

Her breath comes quickly, almost a sob. "I became someone who didn't trust you, who tackled you while you were injured."

His eyes go wide. Tony isn't quite sure how they got here. "You were betrayed," he says firmly. "You made a bad call. Who hasn't? Until today I never even questioned my father."

"I'm sorry," Ziva whispers.

And then Tony finally sees what it is, perhaps only could today, after finally hearing praise leave his father's lips. "We can't live and die by what they think of us. Just because he judges you harshly doesn't mean it's true, Ziva," Tony says sternly, grabbing her shoulders so she's forced to face him. "Just because he thinks your life is worthless doesn't mean it is. Trust me, we wouldn't have come after you if it were." He can see the wavering in her face, how badly she wants to believe him. Also that she doesn't.

Tony begins to ease his hands away when suddenly Ziva pitches forward, her forehead resting against his collarbone. He gently wraps his arms around her in surprise.

"Thank you." Her words are barely audible. Ziva pulls away, flexes her ankle. "I'm fine now." She stands and, with a hesitant smile, takes off down the street.

Tony stares after Ziva as she runs away from him.


	16. Jet Lag

**At Every Opportunity**

Sorry this is late! I went out last night and got too, um, intoxicated to come home and write a chapter. But here you go!

I'll say this in response to some of your thoughts: I love the scene in Masquerade where Tony and Ziva talk but I can't think of anything to add it it. I think Tony would let it go and Ziva isn't ready to reach out more than she does in that scene. If you really want to see a TIVA version of that scene, you can go read my _Making Exceptions_ series. The Secret Santa bit in Faith and even the movie scene in Jurisdiction are similar—they don't really change anything about the TIVA dynamic in the subsequent episodes, so I had nothing to add. But hopefully you'll like this one...

* * *

Chapter 16: Jet Lag

Two hours after they take off, Tony already regrets letting McGee book them on the red eye. His plans to sleep all the way to Paris have been thoroughly confounded. Ziva, beside him, _is_ sleeping—fitfully. Her slumber is punctuated by gasps and whimpers. He's not sure what she'll do if he wakes her, but Tony can't control the anxiety of listening to her being...what? Tortured? He doesn't want to imagine.

Tony shifts in his seat to watch her face. For the moment she is quiet, but there are still lines of tension around her eyes and mouth. She is not a girl now, he notes with sadness. She's a grown woman, the ebullience of girlhood stripped from her.

He reaches out a hand and slowly lays it on her shoulder. "Ziva," he says firmly. To Tony's relief, her eyes open at once. For a moment, she smiles at him, so warmly that Tony is thrust back to all the mornings so long ago when they woke up together. Then her eyes flicker past him to take in the plane and she stiffens, her expression fading.

"What is it?" Ziva asks softly.

Tony swallows hard. "You were...dreaming," he says awkwardly.

Her eyes close a moment. "Yes."

He has to ask. "Of Somalia?"

She looks back at him, her eyes wide and unreadable. "Yes," she whispers.

Tony nods once. They haven't gotten past everything that's happened between them, but he can get through most days without dwelling on what probably happened to Ziva in Africa. The reminder sends a shudder through him.

Ziva reaches out, squeezes his arm. "Thank you for waking me."

His eyes light up in surprise. "Sure." For a moment there is silence, then Tony fills it. "So, there are a few movies to choose from-"

xxx

By the time they reach the hotel, they have seen two movies, solved every puzzle in the SkyMall magazine, and annoyed nearly every passenger around them with talking and—as they further and further stretch their limits of exhaustion—giggling.

Ziva is not giggling as she stares down the hotel clerk. "Seulment un chambre?" she demands.

The man nods for a third time. "Si vous voulez attender a 12h-"

"Non." She cuts him off. "Ca va. Nous devons dormir maintenant."

He passes her the key and Ziva turns to where Tony has been waiting, listening in with interest. "Trouble?"

"They have only one room," she explains abruptly. "Unless we want to wait until noon, when people check out-" Ziva catches Tony's look of exhaustion. "Exactly. So we take this one." She turns to the elevator, missing Tony's suddenly raised eyebrows.

Tony follows, pulling their bags behind him. At least they're too tired after staying awake all these hours to do anything but sleep. He hopes she's even too tired to dream.

The room itself is an exquisite thing, full of tapestries and lace. After they shed their coats, Ziva turns nervously to Tony. "It seems the easiest thing would be to share the bed," she says nervously. As she meets his eyes, all the moments they try not to think about are suddenly between them: the night they were under cover, the night Gibbs left, the night he got back from the boat. Here they are, two people with a history, two people who still care about each other, alone in a hotel room far from any repercussions.

Tony yawns and breaks the moment.

Ziva laughs. "Can you handle that?" she asks teasingly.

He rolls his eyes. "Time for bed." He leaves his clothes in a pile as he strips down to boxers and a t-shirt while Ziva closes all the blinds, darkening the room so they can sleep through the morning. Ziva hesitates as she sees Tony slip beneath the covers, then drags her suitcase with her into the little bathroom and emerges, a few minutes later, in a tank top and pajama pants. She waits at the edge of the bed, wondering if Tony is awake, until he opens his eyes and lifts up the comforter for her to crawl in. Through some combination of sleepiness and familiarity, Ziva scoots right up to him, lets him spoon behind her. Tony is surprised for a moment, then goes with it, sliding his arm around her waist. As soon as they relax they are asleep.

xxx

Minutes or hours later, Ziva wakes in the darkness. She is warm where Tony is wrapped around her, and she flinches at how good it feels to be with him. He can't have her in his life and be safe, but there is still so much between them. The way Tony holds her tells her so. His arms are strong around her waist; as she stiffens now his fingertips unconsciously stroke and soothe her tension away

Ziva shifts and realizes it was needing to pee that woke her. She pulls away from Tony gently and slips out of bed.

When she returns a minute later, she is disappointed to find Tony has settled onto his stomach. She sinks down on the bed beside him.

Tony opens one eye and rolls her against him, his face buried in her hair.

Ziva smiles and closes her eyes.

She is on the brink of sleep when the rush of his breath on her neck tugs her eyes open.

"I love you," Tony whispers.

And because she remembers how badly she hurt him last time she pretended to be asleep, Ziva runs her fingers over his hand on her stomach. "You shouldn't," she murmurs into the darkness.

His whole body tenses, suddenly awake, and then Tony pulls away from her. Ziva whirls, unable to see where he's gone. A light comes on, flooding over her as she clenches her eyes shut.

"Sorry," Tony says softly.

Ziva opens her eyes and looks at him. Tony is sitting up beside her on the bed, his eyes wary.

"Why not?" he asks tightly.

She flinches, answers with less inhibition than usual because she is still half asleep. "I'm not worth it."

His eyes meet hers in anger and confusion as he tries to process what Ziva's said. "Not worth loving?"

Ziva looks away, shifting so she too is sitting. "Not worth dying over."

Tony studies her face, his heart aching. "Don't I get to decide that?" he says gently.

She meets his eyes, hers full of pain. "I have too many deaths on my conscience, Tony. I won't have yours." She turns away from him, curls back into the bed, her eyes tightly closed to hold back all the emotion she is too tired to control.

He's not finished. "Who do you trust more, me or your father?" The question rings out in the room. He lets it hang until Ziva rolls back toward him.

"You," she says finally. "Of course you."

Tony leans down to her level, resting his hands on the sides of her face. "Then I need you to try to see yourself the way _I_ see you. Not him."

Ziva blinks in surprise, then nods. "And how is that?"

A smile traces its way across his face as Tony tries to put it into words. "You..." He chuckles. "You've survived more than anyone I know and somehow you're still the bravest and the strongest and the most beautiful." He tips her chin up. "You want to believe the best about people even though you've been betrayed. Nothing your father has done has ruined your sense of what's right and wrong." Tony takes a deep breath. He's terrified of saying this, but it's his only hope for her. "You make all our lives so much better...and mine...that I _would_ die for you. Because I believe this world needs you in it."

A tear runs over his thumb, and Tony can't just look at her crying, even these few silent tears. He lays beside her, pulls Ziva into his arms. She hesitates, then returns his embrace, burying her face in his chest.

After several minutes, they both begin to feel the weight of sleep sinking over them again, and Tony reaches over to turn out the light. As he lays back down, his fingers brush Ziva's hip and she jerks away from him for a moment before easing back, her hand shaking as she sets it on his chest.

Tony lays still, resting his hands lightly on her shoulder, her hand, his heart racing as one of his questions about Somalia is answered. He suppresses his own sudden wave of emotion. Then he taps a finger on her hand on his chest. "You didn't answer," he says softly.

"What?" Ziva murmurs.

"Do you love me?"

She is a quiet for a moment. "Go to sleep, Tony," she says firmly.

"Okay," he whispers. He knows how hard it can be to say. But the fact that she doesn't deny it is enough for tonight.

xxx

Ziva leaves quietly before Tony wakes up, her thoughts in turmoil. She's always been the one who knew what was best for them, but what if Tony's right? What if it's alright for them to love each other so deeply they would sacrifice themselves to it?

She spends the rest of the day denying to their witness that she and Tony feel any connection, but Ziva is more flustered than usual by the woman's comments.

When the woman tells them firmly, "I don't think people are bad at heart," Tony and Ziva exchange a look. Ziva's not sure what it means to Tony, but she knows what it means to her. In her lifetime she's never questioned that some people are bad at heart. It makes it all the more rare and perfect to know that she's found someone so good.


	17. Obsession

**At Every Opportunity**

Only one more chapter to go (for now)! My sincere thanks to those of you who've been encouraging me all along the way.

As for today's story, a number of you guessed it: Obsession! What if it had gone something like this...

* * *

Chapter 17: Obsession

For months after Paris, things are hot and cold between them. A few days after their return, Ziva mentions her captivity to Tony for the first time. When he presses her, she pushes back, and in the same way that they have always put their feelings aside, now they put Paris aside. Ziva flirts with Werth and the detective from homicide; Tony gets nasty about her citizenship efforts. They bicker to Arizona and back and all around DC.

There are warmer moments, too: Ziva admits he's her friend one night, and Tony's sure she almost admitted more. They fall back into their familiar patterns of teasing McGee, and Palmer too when he gets a girlfriend and then allergies.

At some point, Tony finally takes the message to move on. Since her return they've had only that night in Paris when she refused to return his feelings. There's been no indication that he has anything to wait for from Ziva, and she shows no signs of jealousy or even caring when he makes a scene about McGee setting him with with a friend from college.

Brenda Bittner is only the latest in a string of one night stands. It feels good to get his groove back, and Tony's never been one to object to sex, but it's not quite the same as it used to be.

Ziva catches him off guard with her snarky comments when it's suggested he's in a real relationship with Brenda. She asks him what a woman might see in him and suddenly Tony is angry. He walks away, pissed off at Ziva for the first time in a long time. She doesn't have to love him, but—Tony sighs, takes a dozen pictures of the same spot. She doesn't.

He spends the day thinking how Dana Hutton would be different. She'd return his feelings. He just has a feeling that somehow Dana, who's been to war zones but never touched by them, would be able to open up to him in all the ways Ziva can't. Tony makes himself crazy learning about her, searching for her.

xxx

Ziva finds him at Dana's house the next night."She's not going to just walk in that door and into your life!" she protests.

Tony is defensive at once. "Not all women are like you!"

"What are you talking about?" Ziva snaps.

He takes a deep breath. He didn't mean to say this, but he knows she won't let it go. "I thought you'd walk back in, after I rescued you."

"I did come back," Ziva says firmly.

"Not to me."

The words smart. There is so much Ziva wants to tell him, to explain why she has kept her distance. Since Paris she has questioned all of it, though, and Ziva's not quite sure anymore that the reasons make sense. If she believed what Tony said that night, it would change everything. But her father's opinion still clouds her heart.

Glad her face is hidden by the darkness, Ziva knows what she has to say. It will be easy to say it, and he will be safe. But just thinking the words makes her chest ache oddly, makes her throat tighten. "I'm glad she has you to look out for her."

Tony hears the emotion in her voice. "Ziva," he says quickly, beginning to descend the stairs, but she is out the door before he reaches the landing.

xxx

He takes Dana home the next night.

"Care to show a dying girl a good time, Agent DiNozzo?" she asks.

Tony does care. They eat dinner and have sex and later, when she begins to feel ill, he takes her to the hospital and sits with her all the next day, chatting about nothing, until she slips away.

The case leaves Tony feeling drained and sad, partly because of Dana and partly because of the sharp reminder of losing Ziva. It has also never been so clear that what lies between him and Ziva isn't going to happen with anyone else. Even after his long infatuation, last night meant very little. He feels bad for Dana, sympathetic, but he doesn't love her.

Tony goes to Gibbs for comfort and a shot of liquid courage, then uses it to knock on Ziva's door one last time, because he knows what he has to lose.

Ziva opens the door, her face wary.

"Dana died," Tony says.

She lets him in. "I'm sorry."

"That's why I wasn't at work today," he goes on, fumbling for words in sudden panic as he remembers the last time he came here uninvited.

"Did you sleep with her?" Ziva's tone is mild but the question is loaded.

"Yes," Tony answers, then continues defensively, "Why not? She needed comfort and wanted me, and I wanted her. People have had sex for worse reasons."

She flinches. "I wasn't objecting."

Tony gives himself a silent headslap as Ziva turns away from him to move further into the apartment. This wasn't what he planned to say. "Do you remember what I said?" Tony asks suddenly. "In Africa?"

Ziva whirls to face him, her eyes wide. After a moment she nods. "That you—you could not live without me."

"It's not just about with you. It's _with _you. You know how I feel-"

"You just slept with someone else!" It's not clear to either of them whether it's protest or outrage.

"Ziva." He says her name tenderly, seriously, taking a step closer to her. "What I know now is that no one else is like being with you." Tony sees Ziva's face turn suddenly sad. He asks the question that's been on his mind for two days now. "What did you see in me?"

Ziva smiles faintly, reaching out to rest her hands on his chest while she speaks, tracing a pattern he doesn't know over Tony's heart. She takes a moment to frame it in English before speaking. "You don't always show it but you understand everyone around you. You care even when you're told not too, and you love as hard as you can even though you know what it feels like to lose." She breaks off her touch to look up at him. "In that way you are braver than I am."

Tony blinks down at her in wonder. "And sexy?" he asks after a moment.

She laughs. "Yes, Tony." Ziva's face sobers, and she takes a deep breath. "I still see it, Tony."

"What?" He's caught off guard.

"I still...see it. All of that, in you."

"Ziva-"

"Let me finish. When I came back, but not back to you—I only wanted to keep you safe, Tony." Her tone pleads with him for his belief.

"From your father?" he frowns in concern.

Ziva shakes her head once. "From me. I've been thinking about what you said in Paris, and I want to believe you, but I heard Gibbs and McGee describe what happened to you when I...when you thought I died."

Tony flinches. "It was a hard time."

"I'm not sure I could survive it either," she whispers.

He sets his hands on her shoulders. "So we'll protect each other. Things are different between us now, Ziva. I know that. But if something happened to you, I'd go to the ends of the earth to get you back. That hasn't changed and I don't think it's going to."

Ziva gasps, wondering what she's done to deserve this, then nods.

Tony slides his arms around her and pulls her against him. They hug gratefully, relieved to understand each other again. They are, perhaps, the only people who can truly understand the other's feelings. Tony presses his lips to Ziva's temple, then her cheekbone. He feels her begin to stiffen in his arms but misreads it, angling his mouth swiftly to catch hers.

Ziva pushes away from him as hard as she can, then stands staring at him, frightened, as he stumbles back. She claps a hand over her mouth though she hasn't spoken.

He warily approaches her again.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Ziva begs. "I do want-"

Tony stares at her a long moment, then eases her back into his embrace. Ziva nearly sobs in relief. "The rest will come," he murmurs against her hair. As if cued, he yawns. "I should head home."

"Alright. Goodnight." Ziva sees him to the door, then goes to the window to watch him drive away. As she gets ready for bed, she can't stop smiling.


	18. Patriot Down

**At Every Opportunity**

Did I confuse everyone yesterday when I said one more? This is the last.

It's funny, I had this written before most of the rest of this piece. It was interesting to come back to it and see it line up. It actually feels a little rushed to me after what happened in Obsession, but the season ended, so it had to wrap up! You'll find at the end of the chapter that things are left open-ended. Depending on what we get in the fall, I may reopen this. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Chapter 18: Patriot Down

Tony can't help smiling as he opens the door. "I know you said you'd come over, but...it's nice to see you."

Ziva nods and enters, setting down the food she picked up on the way over. The tension of the day hasn't left her shoulders.

From his perch on the arm of the couch, Tony studies her. "I'm sorry, for McGee, before," he says softly. "He shouldn't have asked you that."

"Why not?" she turns to him.

"Ziva...I think we all assumed...we saw the state you were in when we found you."

She closes her eyes, nods once. Looking away, she answers. "You were not wrong."

Tony's heart swells with the knot of anger and sympathy and regret that he's carried around for more than year. He doesn't ask Ziva for details.

Ziva gives him a small smile of gratitude for his restraint. "I realized only when McGee brought it up, that in some ways I am no so different from Burroughs."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

She pauses. "There are times when it is easier to keep your silence than to have others see you as a victim." Ziva meets Tony's eyes. "And if you are silent, you do not even have to admit things to yourself."

"Like what?" he presses now.

"Like...my father used me for his own purposes, not caring what happened to me physically or emotionally. Salim, too. Though at least he was not family." Ziva stops a moment, then continues. "I said nothing, but these past months—whenever I get close to someone, I still feel the way Kailyn did today. Like a victim."

Tony shakes his head hard. "I wish I could have stopped it."

Ziva shrugs. "I was hoping you could help me move on."

"What about-" Tony begins without thinking, then cuts himself off

"With Damon? She looks at him self-consciously. "He...I think he wanted to. I couldn't."

"And with me? Why me?" Tony studies her, slowly moving toward her.

"You know why," she says, a hint of defensiveness creeping in.

"Say it anyway." He grins now, both provocative and tender at once.

"We have done this before and I trust you."

Tony shakes his head slightly.

"You love me." She sees the dissatisfaction in his face, knows she's gotten it wrong. Ziva smiles back at him for a second, stretching out the moment. "I love you."

He's beaming at her before he's even processed the words. Ziva slips her arms around Tony's neck. "I want to feel like a woman again," she whispers, and kisses him.

The kiss deepens as they both press toward each other, and without any conscious intent on his part, something opens up in Tony's heart – a feeling, a memory, the reeling sensation of watching himself tell Ziva he couldn't live without her. His mouth breaks away from hers and Tony kisses her temple as he anchors her against him in a fierce embrace, the first he's been allowed without holding back in all these months.

Ziva leans back slowly, warily. "Do _you_ still see me as a victim, Tony?"

He pauses, memorizing her face. "No matter how strong you are, your life is fragile."

She nods. "That may be true, but right now I just want to stop feeling like—"

Tony catches the hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

"Please." She leans up, and when he doesn't pull away she kisses him.

His hands find the sides of her face of their own accord. God, this is a like a drug he forgot existed. Tony drags out every ounce of restraint he has, but Ziva's not holding back. As she presses him down into the couch, his hands slide up under her shirt, and Tony freezes. Beneath his fingertips are the long ridges of healed scars.

Ziva rests her forehead against his collarbone, hiding her face. "Don't stop," she whispers.

Tony tilts her face up, speaks slowly. "Just don't rush this more than you're ready for, Ziva." He sees the impatience in her eyes. "Not because you're a victim but because I don't want to hurt you."

She slips off his lap and Tony has to keep himself from reaching for her. But Ziva only studies him, then smiles tantalizingly as she pulls her shirt off and drops it on the floor. "I have healed, Tony. This is the last step." As she walks toward his bedroom, she turns to say over her shoulder, "You might want to bring condoms."

Tony grins and follows her, resolves to make her scream with pleasure and forget, at least for the night, everything she went through.

As he makes love to her, Tony feels Ziva's hesitation where there used to be only abandon and slows down to hold her, sheltering her with his body. Ziva finds in time that she was right earlier; the fact that she knows him, trusts him, lets her eventually lose herself in Tony's arms.

She cries afterward, who never cried no matter what they did to her. In this moment it is not with pain, or love, or anything she can explain, but from the catharsis of the moment.

"You're safe now. I've got you," Tony murmurs.

Ziva pulls back to look up at him. "I've got you, too."

xxx

They are frantic the next few days over Gibbs, and there is no time for each other, nor have they discussed what their night together means—but they find small ways to touch each other, to support each other through the stress. Something is aligned between them that has been askew for so long.

The night before her citizenship ceremony, Tony turns up at Ziva's door, his face deadly serious.

Ziva steps inside. "What is wrong?"

He takes her in his arms and kisses her, because he can. Then Tony rests his forehead against hers. "I have orders from Vance. I have to leave on a COD in an hour." He feels Ziva stiffen. "I'm sorry. I know I promised, and I don't want to be another person you can't rely on."

She winces. "Well," Ziva says with forced lightness, "You will miss my transformation."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "And how does Ziva David, American, differ from Ziva David, Israeli?"

Ziva smiles softly. "Well, she's here permanently, so she doesn't have nearly as much luggage."

Tony frowns, perplexed, then grins. "Baggage, Ziva. Baggage."

She shrugs. "Same thing." Her eyes dance. "You'll just have to come back and meet her."


End file.
